The Phantom who Lived
by hikkifan89
Summary: Hermione Granger has become the new idol of the École Hogwarts, but she finds that two boys are in love with her: Her childhood friend Vicount Ronald de Weasley and her singing teacher, The Phantom who Lived. Who does she choose? T at some points.
1. Prolouge

Count Ronald de Weasley was wheeled slowly into École Hogwarts. The school, although old and decrepit looking, was almost exactly as he remembered it. It was so many years ago that he was there. The last he saw of the school was when he and his wife had set foot in the gondola leaving Him there...

A woman, perhaps the age of ninety wearing emerald-green robes was standing only paces away from Ronald. He had felt her eyes upon him, for he looked up curiously. This was, indeed, whom he had expected: Mme. McGonagall, the transfiguration mistress who had taught his wife so many spells.

"Sold!" The auctioneer announced, breaking Ronald's stream of thoughts. "Your number sir? Thank you.

"Lot six-six-five, ladies and gentlemen." At this the assistant held up the object for all to see, yet this object was nothing new to Ronald. "A rouge stone," the auctioneer described. "In the shape of a crystal. Inside is a valuable substance that is said to grant you eternal life. This item was discovered in the vaults of the theater still with the liquid inside, ladies and gentlemen."

Ronald's head lifted at those words. _Rouge stone...valuable substance...in the vaults of the theater..._ That had to be it. That had to be the item that She had been talking about for so many nights.

But before Ronald knew it, the bidding had started. He saw Mme. McGonagall lower her wand as she had clearly had placed a bid the item.

He had to have this stone. This was the stone he had been searching for for sixty three years. He had to have the highest bid, no matter who the competitor was.

He whispered into the nurse's ear, and she had placed a bid. Mme. McGonagall had done this as well. Ronald once again whispered into the nurse's ear to bid, as she did.

"Thirty!" The auctioneer exclaimed. "And thirty five?" He asked persuasively to the old woman. Mme. McGonagall's eyes met Ronalds once again. She starred at him for a moment more, making the decision in her head. McGonagall knew at this point how deeply Ronald wanted this item, not for himself, but for...

She said "Nox" to extinguish her wand, rejecting the item. The auctioneer clearly understood.

"Selling at thirty sickles. Thirty once, twice-" he tapped his want onto the podium. "Sold for thirty sickles to the Vicomte de Weasley. Thank you sir."

The nurse exchanged the money for the stone, and placed it slowly into his old wizard hands. At this very moment, for the first time since he had last been here, tears clouded his eyes. The memories were becoming so clear.

He examined the stone closely. _A collector's piece indeed_, he thought sadly._ Every detail exactly as she said. Will you still work when all the rest of us are dead?_

There was a moment of silence in the École Hogwarts, for a fierce coldness swept around all of the necks of the citizens.

"Lot six-six-six, then." the auctioneer spoke. This time, it seemed to Ronald, that his voice was eerier and colder, making the hairs on his arms prickle. "A chandelier in pieces. Some of you may recall the strange affair of the Phantom who Lived. A mystery never fully explained.

"We're told, ladies and gentlemen, that this is the very chandelier which figures in the famous disaster. The Ministry of Magic has repaired it and enchanted it with the new Lumos spell."

Two official looking wizards came up to it and stood at its side.

"Perhaps we can frighten away the ghost of so many years ago with a little illumination." He took his eyes away from the crowd and onto the wizards. "Gentlemen!"

X

Lately, I've been wanting to make a good phan phic that nobody has done before, or at least not very much. I thought "Okay, what can I do? I can't do a modern one, I can't do Les Miserables, and I can't do sex-swapped ones." I started thinking of all of the stories I could do while looking in my bookshelf. And then - "Aha!" Why hadn't I thought of it before? Harry Potter crossovers! I felt so happy with myself. -laughs- Anyway, I really hope you enjoy this. Every other week I'll put up a new chapter. Sometimes it might be sooner or later than that though, since I have school coming up. But I garentee that I will get a new chappy up.

Huggles to you all!

Yumi


	2. Memories

Ronald's nurse helped him into the car as he left the École Hogwarts, thoughts of the moment before still in his head. With the Sorcerer's Stone still placed in his hands, he entered the back seat of his vehicle in which he had been only an hour before. If only he had known that the chandelier would be up once again, he, perhaps, might not have come. Yet, would that really stop him?

He pondered for a few minutes in his silence making a decision. These memories are the ones he needed to keep. Therefor, he needed a pensive…

He turned around slowly with his wand pointed to the trunk. With the words in his head ("Accio pensive!") the bowl flew into his hands comfortably with a trail of mist behind it. Again, he took his wand and placed it to his head, while one, long silver hair came from out of his temple. He dipped it into the pensive, and did this once again. This continued for a moment, but on the fourth time around, he stopped abruptly.

An image slowly started to form in the pensive. A blonde woman around the age of seventeen was on a stage. She was singing a song that he couldn't hear. As the fog lifted somewhat, he began to see that she had curly ginger hair and was wearing an elaborate costume of gold, red, and blue.

He realized that this must have been the École Hogwarts in its younger days. This was the play Hannibal they had been rehearsing, and this…This is where his story started.

---

Hermione Granger waited patiently for her cue to enter onto the stage, while enduring the "singing" voice of Fleur Delecour. She had used the spell "Vox Bona", a difficult spell to achieve without years of practice, to enchant her very own voice for the opening night of the opera Hannibal. Fleur had used the enchantment to perfect her voice but, as Hermione saw it, hadn't perfected it at all. Still, Mlle. Delecour was the star of the École Hogwarts, no matter what happened. Nothing would change that.

Beside Hermione, Luna Lovegood was making a face of disgust and shaking her head, her radish shaped earrings flying from side to side. Hermione giggled at this, for she admired Luna's sense of humor. She and Luna had been friends since they were seven, after all.

In a moments time, Fleur's singing stopped and her face was screwed up in anger. Four men had interrupted her singing, for they spoke loudly. The first to speak was the current headmaster, Monsieur Dumbledore. Hermione only caught his voice in midsentance.

"-retirement. I can now tell you these are all true-"

Fleur folded up her fan in annoyance, while pointing at her opposite, Bill. "Aha!" She told him in an know-it-all manner, in which he merely nodded, and turned his attention back to Dumbledore.

"-the two men who now own École Hogwarts: Messieurs George and Fred Weasley."

The two personalities could have not been more different. Fred held his head up high as Dumbledore introduced him so gracefully, while George waved happily at everyone.

"Heh." Hermione mused herself. Luna, however, was standing on her tiptoes above everyone and their heads. Hermione saw her having a difficult time, and grabbed her hand.

"Come on." she smiled. "Let's go to the balcony."

Luna, unexpected to Hermione, exchanged her expression for a frightened one.

"We can't go up there!" she hissed easing her feat down to the floor. "There's a rumor of Greeseachers up there."

Hermione, now pulling her along behind her, gave a flat tone. "Luna, there won't be any Greeseachers." and hurried up the stairs.

The muffled voice of George filled the stage. "And we are deeply honored to introduce our new patron: The Vicomte de Weasley."

Hermione's ears pricked up as she made her way to the top of the stairs. "It's Ron." she gasped to Luna. Staring in amazement, her eyes immediately recognized him: The shaggy mid-length hair of flaming red, the tall and lanky figure, and the freckles. This was indeed the Vicomte de Weasley.

"Before Sirius died," Hermione explained to Luna. "At the house by the sea...I guess you could say we were childhood sweethearts." Hermione paused while recalling the memories. How could she forget that- "He called me 'Little Hermy'."

Luna tore her eyes away from him and spoke softly, "He's quite handsome."

Hermione suppressed a laugh by clutching her teeth. Luna had never openly admitted that a man was "quite handsome" in her life. She guessed, in this case, that Ronald de Weasley really was quite handsome if Luna Lovegood had admitted it.

"My parents and I proud to support to world round École Hogwarts." He spoke with a soft yet manly voice that Hermione hadn't heard for years. It filled her with great joy to hear it again. It had been so long. She had missed him so much, that boy who had swam into the crashing waters of the sea just to save her red scarf. This was the Ron she remembered. The one who had given her her first and last kiss-

Shaking her head, the world came into focus and the applause of Ronald's speech grew to the normal volume. She noticed that it was over, for he had begun to walk away with Monsieur Dumbledore trailing behind him.

Hermione breathed in quickly, hoping to catch his glance as he walked by her. The vicomte simply walked pass her without eye contact or recognition of her.

Hermione, her eyes now becoming strangely moist, gave a weak smile to Luna. "He wouldn't have recognized me." She softly said doubtfully. Although Luna gave her reinsurance, Hermione's head still filled with doubts. Nothing, she thought, will ever make Raoul notice me like he did.

---

This couldn't be! Me, Hermione Granger? No, not I. The girl with the highest grades in the school in an _opera?_ The leading lady of the opera, at that! I only joined the opera because He asked me to. If I had known I had gotten the lead, I would have refused…

Thoughts flooded into Hermione's head like a dam, while she walked onto the stage. Though on the outside she was Alissa singing her sad song, on the inside she was Hermione thinking of the events of earlier that day. The recollections came to her like a film in her mind…

Fleur had officially left the École Hogwarts, not surprisingly, since the backdrop of the "Dans le Alps" sequence almost crushed her. "It's him, the Phantom who lived!" she recalled Luna saying. After that…well, He had been revealed to the managers. Luckily, they hadn't believed it, but Fred's cry had come into her mind so clearly.

"A full house, George. We're going to have to refund a full house! That's not going to look good on the Ministry's record, I can tell you that. Suspect that dark magic has been going on or something…" Fred's complaints had trailed off, and covered over by the Transfiguration mistress.

"Hermione Granger could sing it, sir." Madame McGonagall piped up. No one had really expected this, for she had been so quite in the back of the stage. As she spoke these words, all heads turned to Hermione as she stopped her conversation with Luna. She straightened her back as she was bent over talking in secrecy with her.

As she stared at the curious managers, most everyone as well, had curious looks on their faces.

Exasperated, George spoke. "What, a sixth year student? Don't be ridiculous!"

But Madam McGonagall was prepared for her defense. "She has a great tutor." Again, the cast of the opera had curious looks on their faces.

Although George disagreed with this sixth year student to sing in the lead of the opera, Fred decided to give in. He wanted to try finding this girl out. He would ask the question everyone was wondering.

"By whom?" he asked in a confused tone. Hermione's face grew almost scared at these words, but spoke.

"I do not know his name, Monsieur." She said hesitantly. Unfortunately, that was the truth. What had He been called? Luna had called him "The Phantom who Lived" or "Hogwarts Ghost". Hermione had just called him "Angel" or "Master". Could she really give an answer without having the managers appalled at her?

"I think it would be in the right mind to let her sing for you, messieurs." McGonagall replied to the managers in her most distinct Scottish accent.

Only in a few short seconds, she was standing in front of Mme. McGonagall, the managers, the cast of the opera – everyone.

Miss Granger stood on the stage unsure of herself with a frightened expression on her face. The thoughts rushed into her at that point.

What am I going to do? I've never sung in front of anybody. Will they hate me? They sound like they do. I've practiced the spell, but what if it's no good? Oh, I wish my Angel were here to help me. I can't do this on my own. What if I-

She sighed to calm herself down, shutting all thoughts from her mind. If she wanted to do well, she'd have to not think about anything except for the task at hand.

Hermione glanced at a small figure climbing onto a rouge chair a stagehand had placed there. The conductor of the opera gave almost a small squeak, and successfully climbed onto the chair. "From the beginning in the aria, Miss Granger?" Monsieur Flitwick said in a high pitched tone, while tapping the end of his wand onto the pedestal.

Placing the wand at her throat, she softly said "Vox Bona", and the music from the piano began.

In a whisper that could be heard by all ears, Fred leaned over to his brother's ear and said, "George, this is doing nothing for my nerves."

George shrugged at this, replying "Hey, at least she's kind of pretty."

Not a moment too soon, a beautiful sound came into the room of the school. The sound was of angel's singing in the heavens onto the stage of the opera. This was Hermione Granger's voice, singing for the managers, gradually to the cast of Hannibal, and eventually to the whole Ministry of Magic.

"Flowers fade, the fruits of summer fade. They have their seasons, so do we," she sang. All of the Order of Merlin, first class wizard's smiled gratefully at her as she sang in the night. The wives of the men tilted their heads in thought, but they too grinned.

All was going well. The spell was working. However, it was coming to the end of the song. Now was the time to test if her Vox Bona spell had advanced enough. So she breathed in and continued the last lines of the song.

"But please promise me that sometimes you will think…"  
And it began. The scale was exquisite. Never before had an audience heard such a sound as this. From note to note of the scale flowed easily and softly from her mouth. But it had to end, and she would end it beautifully. It began with a low A, a breath, and to the low A once again to the high A.

"Of me!" she finished, putting the song to rest. Not a moment later, the crowd in the auditorium stood and clapped wildly, some even shouting her name in excellence and accomplishment.

Happiness burst through her, and she no longer could keep a professional straight face. A smile spread across her face as she bowed to the spectators, her bushy dirty-blonde hair falling onto her shoulders.

She had done it! She was now the star of École Hogwarts, meaning the lead role. It was only hours ago when she hated anything to do with the opera, but what a difference a few hours can make. She now was truly happy.

And she knew only one person who could be happier than she was now…

X 

Had to change this chapter a little bit. If you look at my OS Reviews thing, it will explain why. It's longer now. More Phantom/Harry goodness. -pounces onto Erik and Harry- Mine, I tells ya! ...Okay, I'll share. ;)

Yumi


	3. Angel of Magic

As she had done every night before he died, Hermione lit the candle in respect of Sirius. Hermione missed him so much, for he was her father-like figure. How many memories had she had of him and her together, riding on the back of Buckbeak, singing songs in The Leaky Cauldron while he played the violin...These are the moments she missed most.

Sirius, his picture hanging above the row of candles, gave a pained smile and waved sadly from the picture. The moving picture of Sirius had hung there since the day he died. That day he fell behind the vale of the secret room of the Ministry of Magic, never to return again, was the worst day of her life. All it left Hermione was alone with a great pain in her heart. The only thing she really had now was this lonesome head shot of him, every night waving sadly to her.

While her golden gown puffed out from under her as she sat on her knees, Hermione gave a weak smile back to him, slowly tearing her eyes from his picture. Wand in hand, she placed it over a candle under his picture and softly spoke the word "Inflamari". A flame poured out at the tip of her wand, and ignited a yellow flame onto the wick of the candle, leaving it to look as if it had been lit for hours. At this, Hermione bowed her head to the floor in silence.

Not a moment later, a soft brush of wind entered the room with a voice following it. It was distant, but quite clear to Hermione's ears.

"Brava, brava, bravisimi", the male voice spoke tenderly. This was the voice in which she had heard so many nights before. This was the very person who had visited her room only three months ago telling her that he would provide his knowledge of magic and music to help her become all that she could. This was her Angel of Magic.

Hermione lifted her head slowly as his voice filled her ears. She smiled softly. It was so good to hear her Angel's voice. Even more so after her concert in which all of the things he had taught her were put to good use. Perhaps this was the night she would finally see his face?

A loud pop broke her stream of thoughts, for Luna had apperated directly behind her. With a baffled look on her face, Luna slowly walked up to Hermione, her radish earring swinging madly from her ears.

"Where," she spoke in a kind voice. "In the world have you been hiding? I thought the Hiffypinks might have gotten you."

Hermione chuckled as Luna sat on her knees next to her. Tenderly touching her shoulder, Luna took all seriousness and said, "I really wish I knew your secret. Who is your tutor?"

There was a moment of silence. Searching for the words inside her head, Hermione thought of how she could tell Luna about her Angel. Should she lie? She didn't want anyone knowing about him, but then again, it was Luna, her best friend, which she was talking to.

The words came from her mouth at last. "Luna, when I first came here to Hogwarts, whenever I would come down here and light a candle for Sirius," she hesitated. The memories flooded back so quickly. If only she could explain to Luna how she saw them and how much importance they had to her.

She continued. "A voice from above and in my dreams…he was always there. You see, only days before Sirius died, he told I would be protected by an Angel - an Angel of Magic."

Luna stared in utter amazement, her hand slipping off her best friend's shoulder absent-mindedly. Her mouth was slightly open, but she swallowed and broke the silence of the moment.

"Hermione, do you believe? Do you think Sirius's ghost is teaching you?" Her words were soft, but her brow was furrowed.

Hermione was almost shocked at her reaction. She thought that her most understanding friend whom she was with for six years would believe what she was explaining. This was her Angel of Magic! If she was so sure of it, why couldn't Luna be?

"Who else, Luna?" she asked yearningly. "Who?"

Luna turned her head to the side, still in doubt and disbelief. Hermione knew what she was thinking. The Angel of Magic was some dark wizard that was out to get her and her family, trying to rule all of École Hogwarts, and eventually the world. After the reign and fall of the Dark Lord, Luna hadn't really trusted any wizard or witch again. Hermione could understand this, but how could an Angel be a dark wizard?

Hermione spoke to Luna, but more so to herself. "Sirius once spoke of an Angel in whom I'd dream he'd come to me and..."

Her words trailed off. Pushing herself up from the floor, Hermione now lost all awareness that her friend was even in the room, let alone sitting right beside her. All she cared about now was finding her Angel.

Vainly, her eyes slowly searched around the room for any trace of him. "…And as I speak, I can sense his presence. I know he's here calling my name. He's hiding, but somehow I know he's with me the unseen genius." She whispered her last words, barely audible to Luna's ears.

Now standing up, she grabbed Hermione's cold hands and began leading her out of the room.

"Hermione, you must have been dreaming about these unreal stories. This isn't like you at all: the smartest witch in her grade to be talking in riddles."

Hermione wasn't really listening. She yearningly was seeking for Him. With one last look over her shoulder, Hermione searched for her Angel in the candlelit sanctuary, but to her greatest surprise, none had come.

---

"Miss Granger will have no visitors this evening." And with that, the door was closed in front of the fan's faces.

Madam McGonagall could still hear the voices from under the spiral staircase shouting the young girl's name. She watched as Hermione simply walked into the girls dormitory ignoring her admirers, while many thoughts raced within her head.

The aged woman was silent as she studied Hermione's eyes. She only knew what the girl was thinking about. How could she not be thinking of Him? Perhaps it was time to introduce Hermione to her to her teacher at last...

Walking over to the scarlet four poster bed, the ballet mistress took a dark object lying on top of the sheets. Pacing back to Hermione, she placed into her hands.

"You did very well. He is actually quite pleased with you." she said softly.

Confused, Hermione accepted the item from Madam McGonagall and looked down at it.

A single red rose, was placed into her hands. The flower was lush and green, while the crimson pedals were in full bloom. The rose was perfect; it had no missing pedals, thorns, or damaged leaves. But tied to the middle of the stem was a black ribbon of lace. It was a simple ribbon, simply tied, but it was all together extravagant.

Hermione knew who had sent this. There was no doubt of whom. She knew it was...

---

"The Phantom who Lived!" George exclaimed at the top of his lungs, then roared with laughter.

Sitting by the fire in the Gryffindor common room they sat, talking about the history of the old school in which they had recently acquired. Fred, all the while holding a bag of Bertie Botts Every flavor beans, chuckled softly, shaking his head back and forth.

"I can't believe," he said. "That someone would really believe that. I mean, sure, there are ghosts in the castle, but a phantom who only appears sometimes to scare the girls of the ballet? That's just..." He shook his head once more, and threw his hands in the air. "Who could actually think of something like that?"

"And," George proceeded. "People really _do _believe it, 'cause I just spoke to a woman today - age fifteen, sixteen - that was so sure that the Phantom really did exist and was teaching her how to sing." George scoffed and continued. "That's as good as a joke as the ones in Zonko's..."

The portrait hole opened, and a boy of sixteen entered. While climbing over the hole, he straightened his black Hogwarts cloak, and observed the room.

Immediately recognizing the boy, Fred and George clambered out of their seats and quickly treaded toward him.

"Vicomte!" they said in unison.

Huddling in front of him, the managers quickly talked to Ronald. "I think we made a big discovery with Miss Granger."

"Want us to present her to you?"

Ronald held up a hand in front of the faces of the men. "Guys, guys, I'm sorry, but this is one visit I'd like to make alone. Oh, great, thanks." He took the Bertie Botts from Fred's hands and proceeded up the stairs to the girl's common room, not speaking another word.

"Huh...seems that they met before." Fred said while staring at his empty hands.

X

Nuh, I had a virus on my computer! It's called "Cool Web Search" and it's a mean little booger – even worse than the ones in my nose. Doesn't let me get on phantomoftheopera . com mumble grumble…that's why I didn't update earlier. x.x

For the mirror, I was actually thinking of doing something with the Mirror of Erised. Yeah, it would have been cool and stuff, but what would I do? So, I just decided to make it a regular mirror. Sorry, my dear Erised x Hermione fans. I know how much you wanted to see the love between a girl and a mirror grow into a great romance. XP

Yumi


	4. Little Hermy

If a person were to enter the girl's dormitory of Gryffindor, they would find a room with a spiral staircase leading up to it. To the left side of the room when having your back facing the stairs, there was a bed, laid with scarlet sheets of cotton and silk. On top of the covers, legs hanging over the bed's edge, was none other than a girl of sixteen named Hermione Granger.

Hermione hadn't heard the footsteps on the stairs, but a voice followed the footsteps, and then a boy of sixteen.

"Little Hermy let her mind wander."

Hermione knew she had heard that voice before. That was a voice of a tenor, manly and soft. It sounded more mature, more masculine, than when Hermione last heard it. Despite only hearing the voice this morning, it now had more effect on her.

Forgetting the rose in her hands, Hermione turned her face toward the voice of the man, and smiled broadly.

"Little Hermy thought," he continued. "'Am I fonder of books, or of goblins, or maroon sweaters?"

"Ron!" Hermione exclaimed quietly.

"Or of riddles or cloaks?" he quoted.

"Those picnics in the attic?" she commented softly. Oh, how the memories of Ronald and herself came back to her.

As a little girl, Hermione would sit on her knees, smiling with Ronald. They would pretend to be a married couple out for a Sunday picnic in the park. All the while, they were in the cold, haunted attic where the ghosts kept. They were never frightened, of course, since they had each other to keep company.

"Or of chocolate frogs?" Ronald spoke suddenly, beginning to smile. He began to walk over to her, kneeling by the four poster where the girl sat.

And it became all too familiar.

The distinct smell of cinnamon filling her lungs…That, she recalled, was the scent of Ronald de Weasley.

Suddenly without warning at that very moment, as quickly as they came, the memories left Hermione's head, filling them with new thoughts. Thoughts of her Angel and her encounter only hours before. His spirit filling her soul as she sang, his soft voice calling her name, the black ribbon and the rose…

_But wait_, she thought to herself. _I've told Ronald about the Angel of Magic, didn't I? So, he therefor might remember it._

"Sirius playing the violin…" she hinted.

"-As we told each other dark stories of Voldemort." The boy recalled, unknowing to what Hermione was trying to suggest. So, she spoke bluntly.

"'No, what I love best,' Hermy said, 'is when I'm asleep in my bed…" She paused for a split second to find Ronald's reaction, for she sang "And the Angel of Magic sings songs in my head.

"The Angel of Magic sings songs in my head." They repeated the song together. So, he remembered and recalled the story of the Angel of Magic.

Placing her hands into his, he breathed a sigh. "You are the one who sang like an angel tonight." He gave a warm smile and locked eyes with hers.

She bowed her head and laughed softly. Was Monsieur de Weasley flirting with her? His gestures and his words did show a large amount of favor toward her. Perhaps all the feelings kept inside for almost ten years were starting to flow uncontrollably. Might have he been showing his true feelings at last?

Pushing the thoughts of flirtation from her mind, Hermione responded, "Sirius said: 'When I'm not with you, Hermione, I will send the protection of the Angel of Magic to you.' Well, Sirius is dead, Ron, and I have been visited by the Angel of Magic."

Interrupting her last words, Ronald joshed, "Oh, yeah. Seriously no doubt about it.

"And now we'll go down to the Great Hall for the feast." He ended, gliding away from her bed and over to the spiral staircase. He had ended the conversation, but Hermione hadn't. She wanted to – she had to – make Ronald understand her Angel. He was here protecting her and it wasn't some joke, as he might have thought.

"No, Ron. The Angel of Magic is really strict." She confirmed.

Ronald, still joking and in disbelief, chuckled and said, "Well, don't worry. I won't keep you there too late."

"Ron, no-"

He scoffed and confirmed, "You got to change out of that dress and into your robes. I'll be waiting in the common room. Just two minutes, Little Hermy." And with that, he walked out of the room and down the spiral staircase quickly.

Hermione pleaded, getting up from her bed. "No, Ron, wait!" But it was too late. The door of the room closed, and he had left her.

Hermione Granger, the girl of sixteen, was left in the dormitory to await her Angel of Magic.

---

Throughout the halls of Hogwarts, stillness and silence ran through them. The crowd of fans had given up on trying to catch a glimpse of their new star, and were now in the Great Hall. All students and teachers were at the feast, merrily enjoying the world around them. All but one student.

Hermoine had now changed into her school uniform. The uniform was a gray knee length skirt, white stockings to the knee, and a formal white collard shirt. Hermione, however, was now buttoning up her shirt, slightly revealing her womanly bosom, but still very modestly.

Standing up as she rolled up the sleeves of the collard shirt to her elbows, she felt a cold draft entering. She raised her head curiously at this; her eyes searched the room.

Suddenly, a cold voice whispered "Nox!" and the candles of the common room died all at once. Hermione peered sideways at the dying candles, for they were now all but wisps of smoke and ash. This made her more and more frightened by the minute. She knew she had to get out of the room and away from the presence.

She quickly paced toward the spiral staircase in which led to the door of the dormitory. As her stockings touched the first stair, the voice, chilling as ice, entered the dark dormitory, now not so distant.

"That insolent boy, this slave of fashion – he basks in your glory!"

Hermoine stopped dead in her tracks, standing silently. She began to breathe harshly. Her breaths quickened at every word the voice spoke.

"He's an ignorant fool, this brave young suitor, and shares in my triumph!"

Her arms prickled. Her throat tightened. Her voice grew hoarse, yet she gathered the courage to speak back to the voice, for she knew whom it was.

"Angel, I hear you, and I listen. My soul was weak, I know. Oh, please enter at last, master."

Not a moment later, it spoke again. "Flattering girl, don't worry, because you will know me. I hide in shadow, but look in this mirror. I'm there inside!"

Hermione's eyes turned to the mirror by the window, as the voice commanded her to do. To her extreme surprise, a silhouette appeared _inside it_. It was distant at first, foggy and dark, but it began to came into focus.

A head of a boy at the age of seventeen appeared in front of her. He had appealing messy hair of jet black. From what she could see, he wore an École Hogwarts vest of gray, striped scarlet and gold tie, and a black cloak. Oddly, a pure white mask covered the entire right side of his face, in which Hermione didn't know why.

But what was the most curious thing about him were his eyes. They were a piercing green, hard as lighting, but soft as candlelight. They were so somniferous, hypnotic, drawing Hermione in.

The world around her became distant. It was as if she was no longer in the girls dormitory or even at École Hogwarts at all.

Lost in his eyes, she began to walk toward the mirror in which he stood, his hand extended toward her.

"I am your Angel of Magic," he whispered. "Come to me, Angel of Magic."

Outside in the common room, Ronald had heard a voice. A voice of a male.. Worried, he tried to open the door leading to the stairs, but it was locked. It's never locked…

"Whose is that voice? Who is that in there?" he called to Hermione.

But Hermione heard none of this as she walked toward the mirror. With each step, the boy's voice became more and more hypnotic. Nothing seemed to matter anymore. She was lost in the boys eyes, his voice, his words.

"I am your Angel of Magic. Come to me Angel of Magic."

Without realization in what she was doing, Hermione stepped up to the mirror and walked through it, coming toward him.

His green eyes bore into hers as he extended his gloved hand toward her. His mouth was formed into an arcane smile as he beckoned her toward him.

Hermione, eyes connected with her Angel of Magic's, reached her palm out to him hesitantly toward him. Within a moment, the Angel clasped his hand into Hermione's in a cold, yet soothing, warm touch, and they began to walk down the path behind her mirror.

X

Gosh, sorry it took so long to post. It feels like it's been so long! I couldn't come up with any ideas for what the Phantom should look like. Does he have glasses or a mask? A cloak or a cape? A rouge vest or gray? He is probably the character I have had most problems with, but, as you can tell, I eventually figured it out.

Oh! Oh! Did you notice "hard as lightning, soft as candlelight" thing? The hardcore phantom phans know what I'm talking about. : ) Just thought I'd add that in there…

Yumi


	5. The Phantom who Lived

A/N I'm doing the chapter notes at the first of this chapter, because I want to give you an early warning. No, there isn't any nudity or sex or whatever. It's just a little more adult, like for people around thirteen or so. This is why I rated this story "T" for this part and Point of No Return. If people younger than thirteen read this, it's not like they'll be damaged for life or anything. It's just, it has more romantic themes to it. Yeah. : ) I also have ending notes, so look for those when you are done reading this chapter.

X

Harry Potter, the one called Phantom who Lived, strode with his student and obsession down the path behind the common room mirror. The mirror was now behind them, becoming more and more distant as they walked further down into hidden passage.

He closed his hand over the beautiful girl's. Her touch, he could feel, even with his black leather gloves over his hands, was warm and gentle. He looked into her soft, brown eyes. They were in wonder and fascination. They were so innocent and calm. He noticed quickly that her eyes refused part from his own.

The passage they walked was made of damp, golden stone. It seemed almost endless, going on for miles, but the two gave no notice. The gallery was lined with endless lit candles floating in mid-air. It made very little twists or turns.

Harry couldn't help but turning his head to look back at her, admiring her beauty every few moments. Her gold crimpy hair, wisps of the bangs falling onto her face; her curvaceous pale body, covered by a loose revealing shirt, skirt, and stockings; Every time he would look back, a discrete smile would show up onto his face. Hermione could only see, black strands of messy hair covering it, the mask that the boy hid behind. His green eyes, full of mystery and secrets behind the mask, would always connect with hers in a seducing glance. And her mind began to speak to her.

This is the voice. This is the boy that sang to me as I slept in my bed. In dreams, he would always come. He calls to me and speaks my name.

They had now come to the end of the passage. A wooden door stood ahead of them, illuminated by the light of a nearby torch on its holder. The fire seemed to flicker and flow every which way, for a cold draft seemed to be coming from under the door. With his hand still clasped in hers, he, with his free hand, groped the rectangular shaped doorknob of the door and opened it.

His body turned fully around, facing her. His green eyes bore into hers. He was still for only a moment, but then he gave a single nod to her.

It was if an invisible force grabbed her throat. Without warning or knowing what she was doing, she began to sing aloud.

"And do I dream again? For now I find…the Phantom who Lived, I know, is there inside my mind."

It was as if a warm blanket filled her soul. Her voice…she hadn't ever sung like that in her entire life! Even previously in the evening when she sang for the École Hogwarts did she sing as well as she had just now. This boy was an enchantment, a genius, a magician of the mind and soul. He knew how to bring out the best of Hermione. Although they had had many wonderful singing lessons together, tonight was something knew. It was the beginning of something…

They were now outside on the grassy grounds of Hogwarts. The moonlight shone brightly on the two figures. The lake was only paces away from them. Waiting there was a brown rowing boat, bobbing slowly on the lake, sending ripples into the water.

Harry guided Hermione to the exit of the doorframe, and he exited himself, shutting the door behind him. Hermione could feel the autumn air on her arms, but hardly paid attention to it. Harry's mask glared in the moonlight, making it look white as ever. But she could not study him for long, for he imprisoned her waist with his harm, lifting her feet off of the ground.

She found this very unexpected, for she quickly wrapped her arms around his neck, but she also found it very appealing and romantic, as if she didn't need more of his hypnotizing presence.

She felt a warm breath on her arms as she was lifted up into a sitting position. She had soon realized what the figure was that she had been lifted up to.

A white colored unicorn with a glimmering silver horn on its head waited patiently, as a horse would to its master. Hermione had recognized this creature, as it had been seen previously in this evening's opera. The unicorn's name was César, one of the more favored unicorns living in the school. It had been accused of missing almost every night without explanation. Hermione, however, now knew the reason why. It was the unicorn belonging to her teacher, who rightfully claimed it for his own.

Her legs dangled over the side of César's back as she rode sidesaddle upon him. Her hands were clasped onto its white neck for security, while Harry held the reigns steadily in a firm grip. The unicorn and the girl were guided toward the misty lakeside in the cold night at Harry's command.

While Hermione sat comfortably on the unicorn's back, she couldn't help but look, once again, into those miraculous eyes of the boy. Something about them made her drawn to him. She didn't understand why, nor did she want to know. All she wanted to do was look at him, be with him for as long as she could.

Harry felt a light wind brush against the loose sleeves of his cloak. Looking up, his messy black hair slightly in his eyes, he felt the soft glance upon him, as he knew the girl must have been mesmerized by him.

Giving a sinister grin, he, himself, began to sing. "Will you sing once again our strange duet?" His voice was baritone, but unusual. It was slightly harsh, but very seductive to the ears. Not at all did he fail to give her feelings she had never felt.

He continued. "My power over you grows stronger yet. And though you turn from me to glance behind, the Phantom who Lived, you know, is there inside your mind."

As he finished his words, the grassy path merged with the water as they came to the lake. Ceasing the unicorn to stop, he let the reigns in his hands fall, letting go and setting the creature free. Reaching up, he placed his gloved hands onto Hermione's middle, the cloth of her blouse pressing against her. She placed her hands onto his shoulders, as he gently lifted the girl from the creature's back onto the ground.

Her feet hit the ground, but Harry didn't let go. His hands were still imprisoned on her waist. His eyes gleamed into hers.

For a moment, there was silence on the grounds. The wind in the air felt almost softer and warmer. It brushed through Hermione's hair, pushing the stray hairs from her face.

Both students were silent, every moment unexpected of what was to happen. Nothing and everything was happening at that exact moment. They're bodies were still, yet both minds raced fiercely. Emotions were in a spin, but Harry knew he had to take hold.

He sighed softly, his eyes parting from Hermione's. He gave a glance to César, almost forgotten the moment. Making a quick gesture with his hand, he sent the unicorn back to the school stables, and, hooves patting softly on the ground, vanished into the darkness without a trace.

A moment after, Harry released a hand from Hermione's waist. Placing one hand by her side, the other into the girl's palm, he led her to the rowing boat, silently waiting.

He supported Hermione as she stepped up into the dark, cold boat. Her feet pressed into its inside, rocking slightly at her touch. The soles of her stockings were slightly wet from the damp grass, but she needn't pay much attention to it.

As her clothes rippled slightly in the wind, she began to lower herself down, supported by the boy's hand. As she seated herself down, she heard a splash of water behind her, and grew aware that the boy, too, had entered the small boat. He, however, did not sit down, and stood directly behind her. By pushing a long stick into the deep lake bottom in replacement for oars, he began to move the rowing boat forward, gliding across the dark, misty lake.

As they drew further and further away from the bright castle, Hermione's awareness also seemed to draw further and further away. Instead of logic and sensibility, she was now caught up in this fantasy and dream that she could not escape from, nor did she want to…

The surroundings of the night became clear. A large trunk of a tree, its roots spreading every which way into the lake, was now coming before them. It quivered for a moment. It's branches rustled, it's leaves shaking slightly. Then, in a matter of seconds by the flick of a wand, the tree was immobilized. It stood directly still, as if made of stone.

For a moment, there was stillness and silence. But almost instantly, the base of the tree, as if pulled by unseen strings, began to split directly into two, water rushing into its opening. A mysterious light inside of the trunk illuminated the opening. By command, the boat moved forward to the light, and began entering the inside of the earthly tree.

The tree's ceiling above them was of petrified wood. It was quite high above their heads, lit up by light from the water's reflection. Ahead was a bed of mist, making it uncertain to what was to come ahead to the girl in the boat. The boy, however, must have been through the cavern many times, for he did not show any sign of confusion or question.

Hermione kept her head upward, looking at the beautiful surroundings. Her eyes were forward, wondering what was to come around each corner.

Curiosity filled her head, and filled her with the urgency of the moment. She broke the silence of the night by singing the song of her and the boy.

"Those who have seen your face," she began in her soprano voice, "Draw back in fear. I am the mask you wear - "

"It's me they hear." The voice behind her abruptly finished.

Hermione, taken aback, gave a subtle smile as she heard the boy sing. His voice felt as warm as the summer the more times she heard it. She wanted to hear him again, his beautiful voice, so soft and compelling.

So, she sang once more with him their beautiful song, as it now became a duet.

"You're spirit and my voice…"

"My spirit and your voice in one combined."

"The Phantom who lived, I know…"

"You know is there…"

"Inside my mind."

"Your mind…"

Although their words were different, it was also the same. The feelings of passion and curiosity that they felt were the same. The dark song they sang, in which was so hypnotizing and eerie, was the same. Their thoughts of not knowing what was about to happen were, too, both the same. By an invisible force, they were now one body, mind, and soul.

Quietly, the boy spoke behind her. "Sing my Angel of Magic…"

She obeyed and began to sing once more. "He's there, the Phantom who Lived."

Her voice, she remembered, could be enchanted by the Vox Bona spell. Realizing this, she started to sing various notes. She sang the most beautiful notes to the boy with hardly any struggle.

Her voice filled his ears. He found his Angel's voice was so strong and gorgeous. Listening to her sweet song, he commanded once more to her, "Sing my Angel of Magic."

As she sang, without warning, the bed of fog dispersed furtively and quickly. The path of water ahead of them became clear, and brightness filled the cave.

A small room stood opposite of the lake. It was a room in which was slightly disordered and cluttered. The colorless wallpaper was peeling from the walls, indicating the room was somewhat old. A wooden railing above their heads gave the indication of a second floor of the home. Windows of the house were boarded up with wood and nails, as to keep out intruders. Various candles, just as the ones in the passage Hermione and Harry had taken, floated aimlessly in the air, filling the room with its light.

Hermione finally recognized the house as she continued to sing various notes. It was the legendary Shrieking Shack, heard to be untouchable to human feet but of the ones by Phantom who Lived.

Harry gave one final command to Hermione as she reached her climax of the tune. "Sing for me!"

Hermione gave one final note of her song, which echoed throughout the chamber. As she had done this, the boat merged with the floorboard of the room and stopped.

Stepping out of the boat and onto the wooden floor, Harry quickly entered his dark home, his cloak billowing out from under him as he walked quickly. He turned himself toward Hermione, smiling onto her. He extended his arms toward the home, showing his kingdom to her for the first time.

"I have brought you," he spoke softly. "To the seat of magic's thrown. This is the kingdom where you surrender to the magic."

Walking further into the home, he turned his back toward her and continued. "You've come here for one purpose and one alone. That first time I heard you sing to me, I've needed you with me, to serve and to sing my music with magic. Magic…"

He paused for a moment as he gazed into Hermione's eyes, his eyes boring into hers. Remaining in the boat, she gazed upwardly at him silently in fascination. He smiled slightly as she stared at him. For now was the time to show her why he had truly brought her there.

His eyes never parting from hers, he began to sing with the voice of the Vox Bona spell. "Nighttime sharpens which hightens each sensation. The darkness will stir, waking the imagination. Silently your senses abandon their defenses…"

He paused for a tender moment. As his eyes stared toward her, he extended his hand, inviting her to take it. He stood still and watched the girl. Her dark skirt fell to her sides as slowly lift herself up from the rowing boat and her stockings touched onto the floorboards. She hesitantly walked forward to him, abandoning the boat. Slowly, she placed her hand into his.

His smile grew slightly as they locked hands, and his glance became more seducing, drawing her in.

"Slowly and gently," he continued, his voice mellow and calming. "Night will unfurl its splendor." Reaching out his hand, he beckoned him toward her. "Grasp it, sense it. Feel how it's tremulous and tender."

Hermione's eyes began to part with his, trying to take everything in. She looked upward toward the second landing above them, but the boy denied her from doing such thing. Placing a hand on her chin, he turned her head toward his, gently forcing her to look into his own green eyes.

"Turn your face away from the garish light of day. Simply exclude your thoughts of cold, unfeeling light. Just listen to the magic of the night."

At last, he released his hand from Hermione's. Giving one last glance at her, Harry quickly turned his back to her and continued to walk further into the home.

He quickly began to climb the wooden stairs in the house, the bottom of his cloak brushing against each step. As he left the girl standing silently alone below on the second landing, her eyes followed him as he reached the top of the stairway, his back still turned to her.

When he came to the peak of the landing, he quickly whirled around and placed his hands on the banister in front of him.

"Close your eyes," he began to crescendo, "And surrender to your darker dream. Purge your thoughts of that life you knew before."

Taking a breath, he gave a seducing watch to Hermione. She began to give a grin at his words, still silently watching.

"Close your eyes…" he softly sang. "Let your spirit start to soar." Lifting his hands up, he gave his command to Hermione.

She let her eyes close. Her body began to feel warm and calm. Her body felt as if it was being lifted off the ground. Her senses began to feel numb, feeling nothing but the power of his voice. Her mind was at ease at last, forgetting everything about the hours before. She was now focused on just him.

She exhaled, her shoulders dropping. She opened her eyes and gave an amazed sigh to the boy above her. With her mouth slightly open, she gave a quick blithe smile.

He began walking back onto the stairs as he completed his notes. He dropped his head slightly, his eyes becoming sinister and passionate. "And you'll live," he quietly sang. "As you've never lived before." On his last words, he reached out his hand once more to the girl, just as he had done moments before. She stepped forward to him, reaching the stairs, and accepted his hand again.

They stepped onto the top stair and onto the second landing. A single golden curtain stood to the far end, untouched and still. To the right of it was a wall of black doors, all closed and locked. To the side of the doors were the walls met was a full length standing mirror covered up by a white sheet. At the top of the mirror, carved words read "_Erised stra ehru_", and were cut off by the covered cloth, unknown to what the other words read.

Standing in the heart of the landing, Harry stopped walking. He turned his body to face Hermione's, and began singing once more. "Softly, deathly, the magic will caress you. Give into it, feel it secretly possess you."

He was so close to Hermione now that their faces almost touched. The girl's golden hair brushed against his chest. With her head bowed down, she glanced up into his eyes.

Harry calmly looked down into her eyes, not minding the hair that was caught in front of his eyes. As he circled around her, he proceeded. "Open up your mind. Let your fantasies unwind in this darkness that you know you cannot fight. Just listen to the magic of the night."

He slowly backed away from her, his face smiling upon the girl. Walking around her slowly, his eyes began to glow from the floating candles around him.

"Let your mind start a journey through a strange and new world. Leave all of thoughts of that life you knew before."

Hermione's gaze fell on him, watching him circle around the candles. His eyes forcefully looked into hers, almost lustfully and passionate.

"Let your soul take you to were you want to be!" he intensely sang to her. As he came close to her, she automatically placed her hands upon his cloaked shoulders and looked upward into his eyes. He began to raise his hands toward her pale neck, barely touching her.

"Only then can you belong…to me." He spoke quietly; a hint of sorrow was hidden in his words. His singing was now lost, and the words he meant to say were now spoken.

Hermione absent-mindedly slid her hands from his shoulders down to his upper arms. Her body felt almost numb. Her arms prickled slightly, and her legs grew weak. She no longer had control of her own body, but she didn't have fear. She actually felt enjoyment, such bliss. She could no longer deny him.

Harry placed his hands onto her hips, slowly turning her body around, the back of her body pressed against his. Without hesitation, he guided his hands across her body, onto her chest, guiding his hands on her stomach, down her thighs…

"Floating, falling, sweet intoxication…" he whispered gently into her ear. His warm breath could be felt upon Hermione's ears and on her neck.

She closed her eyes, feeling his warm touch upon her own body. Her head slowly rested upon his shoulder. The carnal impulse couldn't be ignored. He took his hand upon hers, placing her own onto his unmasked side of his face.

"Touch me, trust _me_." He whispered vigorously into her ear. His hands guided hers across his face, across his cheek and jaw. "Savor each sensation."

She gently opened her eyes and turned her head around toward him. Placing both hands into hers, he looked into her eyes, feeling the warmth in them.

Again, he began to walk hand in hand with the girl across the landing. "Let the dream begin, let your darker side give in to the power of the magic dark as night. The power of the magic of the night."

He led her to the golden curtain at the side of the room. As he put a hand on her side, her shirt pressing against the girl, he placed a hand on the curtain and drew it. Unknown of what was to be expected, Hermione turned her head over her shoulder, curious and unknowing. Harry responded by looking down at her, then forward, inclining her to look at what was ahead of them. Turning her head back, she glanced at what was ahead of her.

Standing before her was an exact replica of herself looking extravagant. Her hair was pulled back into a half ponytail, letting her wavy gold hair set freely on her bare shoulders. Her gown was a witch's wedding dress. The slender straps were of white fabric, touching down on the v-necked collar. The hem touched the floor slightly, covered with many layers of silky, cream cloth. Looking at herself, she gave note that it looked very fitting and precise.

The statue was still with a discrete smile on her red lips. Her brown sparkling eyes stared directly at her. It was if she were looking at herself in a mirror, still and petrified. The petrified version of herself.

Petrified…

Thoughts rushed back into her mind. She recalled her second year at École Hogwarts. There were tremendous amounts of fears of attacks on muggle born students. She, herself, had been a target for the evil beast that caused it. That hideous monster lurking in the walls. Those yellow catlike eyes…

Thinking about them was like looking directly into them once more. She couldn't see them again. She could bear to look and stare into them as her body froze without control. She had no power over her body, her thoughts left her, knowing that she could have nearly died.

Overwhelmed by the tragic thoughts of the past, everything became distant. Her legs grew weak and her consciousness left her, for she could feel herself being swallowed in, falling into the black darkness.

They boy gave a quick look at Hermione, giving notice to her weakness. Immediately, he grabbed her shoulders, protecting her from falling onto the hard ground, and grabbed the back of her legs while lifting them up. He held her lightweight body in his arms for a moment, shifting her to become comfortable.

Her head rested in his arms as he began to walk toward one of the locked rooms of the second landing. Her silence was calming and gentle. She looked like an angel as she slept, little wisps of gold hair brushing her pale face.

Harry gave a warm smile down to her. His Angel had finally come and rescued him from all the cruelty of the world above.

"Alohamora." He whispered at the door, speaking barely above a whisper. He didn't want to disturb her slumber in which she so peacefully slept in.

The old, wooden door slowly swung open on its hinges, revealing a solitary bedroom. A single four-post bed stood there with its oak ends arced into a phoenix head. Red and gold satin sheets moved slightly as the boy made his way to the bed.

He sat the girl gently down on her back, slowly setting her head down with the rest of her body. Her blouse ruffled barely as she was placed onto the bed.

Kneeling beside her on one knee, he sat down by her lifeless body, savoring her beautiful features. He stared directly into her closed eyes, imagining of what an angel could be dreaming of.

Placing a hand on her chin, he turned her head towards himself, her crimped hair moving slightly at his touch.

Whispering, he spoke, "You alone can make my spells take flight. Help me make the magic of the night."

He held his hand on her chin for a moment longer, still looking into her sleeping eyes. He eventually gently slid his hand away, lifting himself up off of his knees as he left the girl on top of the satin sheets of the bed.

He backed away so gently and quietly that his footsteps could barely be heard under the wooden floor. He reached his way to the doorframe, and placed his hand on the doorknob.

He gave one last look at his angel. She seemed so serene and tranquil in the darkness of magic. It was finally where she needed to be. Here in the darkness with the Phantom who Lived is truly were truly belonged, away from the light above the school, away from the white magic and spells. She was meant to be with _him. Harry…_

Bowing his head slightly, he quietly closed the door to the room.

X

Damn, this chapter is long! BUT my favorite chapter to write so far! Also the hardest to write… The first of the chapter was hardly like PotO, then the end of it was too much like PotO. I didn't know what to do! –cries-

I tried making it that Christine/Hermione wasn't so hypnotized and out of it. She was under Harry's spell (metaphorically speaking) and wanted just him, totally forgetting about Ron. I tried to make her more aware of what was going on, and not so…foggy headed and lazy eyed. Lol!

(Yes, I do know the lyrics to Music of the Night, thank you. I changed them to sound more like Harry Potter, neh?)

So! Thanks so much for the reviews and reading this, you guys! I really do appreciate it. Be sure to look in the news section, since I update that quite a bit. Thank you!

-hugs readers-

Yumi

By the way, if you want to get an idea of what Hermione and Harry look like in this chapter, check out the pic I drew (yes, I know I can't draw). Remember to take the spaces out when you enter the URL:

www. freewebs . com / hikkiUNDERSLASHfan89 / h&h . jpg


	6. Magical Curse

"Hermione? Are you in here?"

The picture of the Fat Lady swung open to reveal an entrance the Gryffindor common room. The fire was crackling the last of its embers in the fireplace, nearly dead. The stars shown through the windows brightly, the moonlight's glow shown on the floor. A sixth year boy slept in a rouge chair fully clothed, but, other than him, the common room was empty.

Luna climbed over the doorframe, her necklace of butterbeer caps tinkled slightly as she moved. The portrait closed behind her, her robes falling over the frame.

The boy in the chair grunted slightly at Luna's presence. He shifted slightly, placing his hand on top of his red hair for support, then went back to sleep.

Giving mind not to wake the student, she crept quietly into the common room toward the stairs. However, when she reached the top of the staircase, she found the door leading to the girl's dormitory was locked.

_Oh my_, she thought mistily to herself. _That hasn't happened before. How very odd._

She sighed airily, took the wand from behind her ear, and pointed it toward the door in front of her.

"Aloharmora." She casted, and the next thing she knew, there was a clink from the doorknob.

As she climed up the stone steps and entered the girl's dormitory, she saw that it, too, was empty with not a person in sight. Luna sighed in disappointment, and bowed her head. Hermione wasn't there either.

But just as she began turning her body toward the spiral staircase and began to descend down the stairs, a faint glitter twinkled in the side of her eye. Curious, the girl turned her head toward it. To Luna's greatest surprise, the glitter came from the side of the room – where the mirror in the corner was. The glitter was from _inside the mirror_.

Astonished, Luna froze for a moment, her body turned toward the stairs, her head toward the mirror. How could it be that a glint of light was _inside_ the mirror? She turned her head around and searched around the room, but saw no other light source.

She blinked again for a moment at the glimmer of light. It looked as if it were moving slightly, as if brushed by wind. Curiosity took hold of her, and she turned her body toward the wall.

Reaching the mirror, she sensed there was something off about it. Although she saw a pale girl with blond mid-length hair staring back at her, she knew there was something more. There had to be. From what other place did the light come from?

She traced her hand along the reflected glass. It was smooth, but deathly cold. The mirror rocked slightly as she touched it, but she kept tracing the icy mirror along with her palm.

Without warning, she found what she was looking for. At the very edge of the mirror was a crevice, no bigger than an inch, at the side mirror's golden frame.

Placing her fingers inside of it, the girl pulled slightly on it. To her greatest wonder and surprise, the mirror pulled back. It shifted on its side as it revealed the greatest wonder yet.

The light she had seen earlier was a flickering tourch, dully burning in its holder. Past it, a dark cave-like path stood before her. A slight brush of wind passed her, blowing her hair back onto her shoulders.

The fear increased inside her. She was hardly ever afraid of anything ever before, but now she felt the worse presence coming the cavern. Terrible vibes filled her body. She wasn't afraid – she was terrified.

She swallowed trying to get push down the lump in her throat and gathered up all of the courage she had in her small body.

Stepping forward, she entered the dark path.

It was nothing like she had seen before in the École Hogwarts. The path was paved with crackling gravel, which gave a green tint by the mold and moss covering the walls. There were no candles, no light source except for the glow of the mirror behind her. The further Luna walked, the less she could see.

Luna felt so cold, she shivered. She grabbed the sides of her school cloak, pulling them tighter to the sides of her waist, trying to savor the warmth of her body.

Just as she began to wonder how to warm her feet up, suddenly fear shot through her body. Abruptly, a firm hand grabbed her cloaked shoulder. Her senses became shot and her knees locked. She tried to scream, but no sound came out. She vainly tried to pull away from the dark silhouette in front of her, but it was slightly too strong for her.

The hand quickly left her shoulder and imprisoned her small, bony wrist.

"Miss Lovegood," Madame McGonigal spoke harshly as she led the girl out of the dark passage the way they came. "You are a Ravenclaw student. What possessed you to come into the Gryffindor common room without permission?"

Luna began to breathe again, harshly, but breathing. Her body became warming as she found the transfiguration mistress ahead of her.

Trotting behind the angry teacher, her dirty blonde hair bouncing everywhere, Luna quickly reacted. "I came to find her. Hermione's in this passage somewhere."

There was no response after her words. Only the footsteps of the mistresses were heard, echoing down the passage. The mirror was coming close now, but the stillness began to make Luna uneasy, combined with the darkness of the cavern and the rats scuttling along its sides.

Trying not to look at the small creatures, she continued. "Ronald de Weasley said last night that when he tried to collect Hermione for dinner, she didn't say anything when he called her."

Still silent, the professor came to the end of the passage and began to open the mirror.

In desperate plea, Luna gave a soft, airy cry. "He said heard an unknown voice in Hermione's room."

Madame McGonigal stopped abruptly dead in her tracks. She whirled her head around at Luna's frightened face. A mixture of concern and disbelief filled the mistresses face. Her mouth was open slightly and her jaw quivered slightly.

Luna stared into the old woman's eyes. They were not full of fear as much as they had been full of concern.

However, not a moment later, the teacher pulled her shoulders back and stood up straight. "You had better get to your next class, Miss Lovegood." She said as she nudged Luna out of the passage.

Obediently, Luna stepped out from behind the mirror ahead of the teacher. Immediately, her ears heard the mirror close softly behind her, but stopped abruptly.

"And Miss Lovegood," McGonigal spoke as her head poked out from behind the mirror. "Please, tell this to no one."

---

Luna sat on the cold floor, staring straight ahead. The dungeon's roof dripped slight droplets of water onto her head, but she paid no attention to it. She just couldn't forget about Hermione. Where could she be? Who is she with? For a few moments, Luna questioned this, giving a quick thought that the Hiffypinks or Greeseachers might have taken her, but that thought left her mind quickly.

Gliding into the dark, damp hallway was Draco Malfoy, followed by his two cronies, Crabbe and Goyle. Along side him was Pansy Parkinson, Malfoy's newly found girlfriend, with a smug look on her face as she strutted beside him.

Quickly, not wanting to get into any trouble with the boy, Luna quickly picked up the newspaper beside her and began to pretend she was in deep thought.

But it was too late. Malfoy quickly spotted the girl and smirked. "What's that there, Loony?" he said dully as he spotted Luna on the floor, reading the upside down newspaper, _The Quibbler._

"Oh, I see why you're reading. 'Phantom of the École Hogwarts spotted near local resident's homes.' Is that anything like the abominable snowman?" He mocked. All the Slytherins laughed haughtily at his remark, while the Ravenclaws looked down upon him, shaking their heads.

"But you know," he spoke, his voice now becoming more sly and mellow. "They do say things about him. Like how his skin is like yellow parchment, and how there's a great black hole where his nose didn't grow."

Spotting Pansy with her back turned to him, he gave a sly grin. "You must be always on your guard, or he'll kill you with the killing curse."

Quickly grabbing her from behind, he imprisoned his girlfriend's arms with his, and teasingly held his wand at her neck. She giggled slightly as taunted her.

As the boy and girl flirted, they were unaware of a hand coming toward them. The firm hand broke the lock between Malfoy and Pansy, and grabbed his wand right out of his hand.

Everyone fell silent as Madam McGonigal looked sternly at them. "Those who speak of what they know find too late that prudent silence is wise."

Walking closer to him, she continued. "Draco Malfoy, hold your tongue," As he gave a great scowl, she forcefully pushed his own wand at his chest. "Keep your hand at the level of your heart!"

And only a few feet away from the group, just as the ballet mistress finished her words, Hermione Granger woke with a start.

X

Er, yeah. Let me explain one thing. In the Rowling version of HP, there is nothing to avoid the Killing Curse except with love…aha…well, I thought that sounded just a bit too cheesy for this story, and so I decided to avoid Avada Kedevra, you had to hold your hand at the level of your heart. This is exactly equivalent as holding your hand at the level of your eyes to avoid the Punjab lasso. I couldn't necessarily tell you this in the middle of the story, so I'm telling you here. Sorry if any of you got confused. –sweat drop-

Yumi


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